Footprints

by Jim

When I was a young boy I loved to walk on the beach. In the wet sand, after a few steps, look back at the footprints. A few more steps and they were gone, washed away by the waves.

As years go by we leave fewer footprints. We walk on sidewalks, on blacktop, cement, even grass. If we leave a print, we don’t notice it.

The area I live in now has a lot of sandy dirt, no grass, no weeds, just dirt. Old age has taken its toll, so I walk with a cane. The cane makes its own print. Other people walk around here, so I know who is who. My shoe size is 12 and every once in awhile, I see a size 15 or 16 footprint. Wow! Then it dawned on me, the paper boy only comes by on Sundays. Besides the paper he leaves a huge footprint.

Every morning my friend picks me up for coffee. I meet him at the curb. My footprints and little circles from the cane are in the dirt. The next morning my prints will be there, but no circles. No wind, no rain, no cane prints.

February, 2011

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